A day unfolds with no grace,

lots of malice,

and frolicking crows;

you say “nonsense” like it’s a bad word.

.

I crave the gobbeldy-gook

like a fish needs to move forward.

.

Pump the feet

and go round and round-

when it stops,

the rest is soporific.

When they danced,

cows from the next county

slowed their cud-chewing

and the moon hung back,

a little envious, mostly wistful.

His cheeks held secrets

of tombs and acorns while

her smile was a Mondrian nightmare

and her hands were full

of crushed pine cones;

they were sappy

and devoid of catharsis.

they’re always starting something

and it’s usually done in full light-

I wish I was visible and able to be heard

but I’m headless and mostly vapor

like a storm that passes through

–

there is so much deviance lurking

in the world of sweater sets and chess,

I’m not hip to the nihilist scene

because I just want to believe in something

uplifting and warm- like cookies

–

their silhouettes haunt me-

like watching a family at the kitchen table

through a window at supper,

not quite within reach

and alarmingly real